


Impolite 'Thank yous'

by blackhighheels



Category: Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:42:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackhighheels/pseuds/blackhighheels
Summary: Vanjie is fascinated by the Canadian drag queen Brooke, who stays with his drag mother for six weeks  to experience the American pageant system...This is an attempt to do "Call me by your name" Branjie style
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 33
Kudos: 70





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had originally planned on writing a Christmas story, but got stuck two pages in. Same goes for another idea I have, but which I might still see through at some point. 
> 
> So, this is a Branjie story inspired by the movie (or book?) 'Call me by your name'. The story should make sense, even if you haven't seen it. I recommend watching it anyway, just because it's a really good movie. I watched it maybe five times in preparation for this story?! And don't even get me started on the book.

**Chapter 1**

When I saw him for the first time, it was also the first time I became aware that a 'Thank you' can sound fucking rude. I mean, not the intentional aggressive or ironic 'Thank you' you say when you're damn angry or want to be rude. But the kind of 'Thank you' that just shows that the person saying it, doesn't mean it one bit.

He stepped out of the taxi, let the driver dump all of his bags and suitcases onto our front lawn without helping him and then just said 'Thank you' with his stupid Canadian accent.

I walked over to him, and was surprised by how much taller he was than me. I'm not exactly tall, but him… Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Blonde curls, blue-green eyes, bushy eyebrows, white, milky skin…different from me in every way. He was a pretty white boy.

Maybe that's when I fell for him?

I helped him carry his stuff inside anyway, because otherwise Alexis would surely whoop my ass. Blondie was his guest after all, the prodigy drag daughter of one of Alexis' pageant friends from Canada. He would stay with us for six weeks to get an idea about the pageant system in the US and then he would leave again. And I was asked to be on my best behaviour and help my 'drag sister' out. I even had to move out of my room and into the drag room, so he had a bed and the bigger room.

"Jose," I held out my hand once we stood inside the house, surrounded by his luggage.

"Brock." We quickly shook hands and I was surprised how cold his hands were, here in the Florida heat.

"Alexis! El muneco de nieve esta aqui!" I watched his face for a reaction to the stupid nickname, but there was none. Looked like he didn't speak Spanish. His face showed no emotion at all. He was intimidating.

"Brooke, so nice to meet you," Alexis came out of his office with a large smile and followed by his husband Jeffrey.

"Nice to meet you, too." While the introductions were made and smalltalk about the travel exchanged, I let my eyes wander over him again. He wore grey sweatpants and white trainers. A large, red T-shirt that had a hole just above the seam on his back. Beside his obvious lack of fashion sense he seemed very confident, but kind of aloof as he spoke to my drag parents.

"Jose will show you your room," Alexis said and brought the attention back to me.

"You mean my room," I couldn't help but grumble.

"Take his bags with you, por favor," Alexis ignored my remark.

"Who am I? The bag boy?" I turned to the guest and pointed to one of his huge ass suitcases. "You can carry that yourself, you hear me, white boy?" Then I grabbed the smallest of the other bags and led the way to what was usually my room. "This is yours now, usually it's mine. Keep your fingers off my stuff on the left side of the closet. Right side is yours. I'm in the room over there and we share the bathroom. You better not be a messy ho, put the toilet seat down and don't leave toothpaste in the sink." With the warning I left the room and went over to my temporary home. Jeffrey had put a small bed into Alexis' drag room, but it would do for the time being. I had a bed, a tv and my video games and make up.

*******

When Alexis called for dinner I knocked on his door and waited until he finally came out so I could take him downstairs with me. He was still wearing the same stupid outfit, even though I had heard him taking a shower earlier. To celebrate his arrival nearly every member of the house of Mateo was present.

"Jose, gambas?" Victoria asked me and already handed the plate over, knowing that I wouldn't eat much of the rest of what was served. Meanwhile Brock didn't seem to have that problem and stacked his plate with a little bit of everything and uttered his stupid "thank you" after each plate that was handed to him.

"You're only eating shrimp and rice?" he addressed me at some point, after the discussion about his long travel and the placements in pageants of my drag sisters had come to an end.

"Yeah, I'm a pescatarian."

"Really?" he smiled. I felt that he made fun of me and wanted to punch the stupid grin of his face.

"Really. Got a problem with that?"

"Not at all. Just surprised, because everyone else seems to be enjoying their meat."

"Don't want any animals to be killed for my dinner. And I prefer a different kind of meat or sausage. Just need a gay club and some juicy trade for that, though, if you get my drift." He nearly chocked on his beans and started coughing and finally the smile was wiped off his face. I just raised an eyebrow and exchanged a look with Jelitza. What kind of drag queen was he? Surprised by a comment about sex? This could be fun after all. Maybe the six weeks of him staying wouldn't be as horrible as I had first thought and I could like fucking with him at least. Instead I grew to hate him over the next couple of days.

*******

Maybe it happened when he came along to walking the dogs, my own dog Riley and Alexis' dog, the next morning and I showed him the neighbourhood. A black cap backwards on his head, his feet stuck in black espadrilles while the rest of him wore the same outfit again. One curl snuck out from underneath the hat and fell into his face a couple of times. Each time he stroked it back and huffed in annoyance. He held the leash of Alexis' dog more loosely than I ever did and still, the dog pulled less than it did with me. We walked quietly side by side, except for the moments when I pointed out a shop, the house where two of my drag sisters lived or the dog sitter.

It might have also been wile we worked on the new pageant costumes out on the patio. He glued rhinestone after rhinestone to the fabric with incredible accuracy, while I got distracted every couple of minutes by the chatter around me, a bird that few by, Riley who wanted my attention and by him, by his concentration and total lack of attention to what was going on around him. Whenever he glued on the last stone in a row his tongue peeked out between his teeth and wet his lips. The wetness it left behind glistened in the sunshine until it dried a couple of seconds later and was gone.

Possibly it was when we went grocery shopping together. Or during the first joined dance practice when he twirled around the room on his tiptoes. Or maybe when I woke up during his second night at the house, because his loud snores could be heard through the wall between our rooms.

"You want me to show you the pool?" It was Sunday afternoon and only the two of us were home. I could use some time in the sun and the water before I had to go back to work the next day. It was also the perfect offer in this heat and everyone always came over to cool down in the water.

"I think I'll go to the mall instead. But thank you." There it was again that polite impolite way of keeping people at arm's length. Me being one of them. It hurt. And it busted the dream bubble I had of the both of us in swim shorts, all wet and delicious.

"Suit yourself, mami." I shrugged and turned around to go to my room and get changed anyway.

"Can you drive me?" He stopped me. He'd only ben with us for three days and didn't know the way to the mall yet.

After deciding that the clothes he wanted to buy would be better bought at the outlet center, I drove him there instead. The drive was silent until he made me stop the car and took the key from me. I was banished to the passenger's seat in my own car, because of my 'erratic, irresponsible, crazy and dangerous driving that will kill us'- his words, not mine. I took revenge by letting him buy some more ugly ass shirts and shorts, because he only had brought clothes that were too warm. How damn stupid could you be? Bringing sweaters and long jeans to Florida?

"Alexis said you have to go back to work tomorrow. What do you do?"

"Drag."

"Beside drag. Or is it your day job as well?"

"I work at MAC. I'm a make-up artist. And you?"

"Drag."

"Beside drag? Or is it your day job as well?" I repeated his words, mocking him.

"Yes." I snorted. Of course it was. A guy that looked like this and could dance like that could totally make a living simply by doing drag. "I used to be a ballet dancer though." He smiled. I smiled back. He looked younger when he smiled, not that he looked old otherwise. Just his aloof behaviour and the stick up his ass was kind of getting old. "Ever did some ballet?"

"No. I was just always on the dance team at school. We rocked out ghetto style, grinding and shaking out booties."

"I can see that." No laughter, not even a smile. I couldn't place the look he gave me. It gave me hot flashes.

"It's getting fucking hot. Wanna hang out by the pool now or go to the beach? I got shorts and towels in the car." I offered, seeing as he wiped the sweat off his forehead again, as we were sitting outside, sipping cold drinks in the shade.

"Yougo ahead. I still have to get some stuff. And I have to get a rental anyway, so I'll drive back on my own. " With another 'thank you' he got off his chair and left, vanished into the Nike outlet store.

I felt stupid for even offering spending more time with him and getting rejected again. If he wanted to keep sweating and shopping then that's what he was gonna get. I grabbed my wallet and keys and drove my erratic, irresponsible, crazy and dangerous ass to the beach and hung out with my cholas. Fuck him, thank you very much!

*******

Most likely I fell for him without really realising it. I always noticed what outfits he was wearing.

When he finally showed up at the pool for the first time on his fourth day and shook the water out of his curls, making it fly everywhere, I wanted to run my fingers through his hair, then down over the slight stubble on his cheeks, tangle them in his chest hair. I yearned to see if his white skin would turn red, if I sucked on his neck and wondered if his skin would taste like the pool water, sun lotion or just him.

Five days into his stay I showed our new dance routine to the other dancers. They had problems with the slight jump before the death drop and were afraid they would hurt themselves. I showed them how to do it, then went on to show them the rest. Half way through the routine I felt his eyes on me. I kept dancing, concentrated on the music and the beat. I added a little jaunt to my steps, turned up the energy, straightened my shoulders. Still,I was aware of his wandering gaze, the keen smile and the warmth in his gaze that melted the ice which usually surrounded his whole being. It made my heart beat even faster and the flush on my face had nothing to do with the dancing.

When the music stopped I looked at him, our eyes met, but instead of the admiration I had hoped to find, I was met with disapproval and something similar to hatred. It nearly knocked my over and I stumbled backwards. What had I done to deserve this? My dancing surely wasn't that bad. Honestly, my ability to dance was the only thing I had ever really been confident in. It shook me to the core and suddenly I didn't want to dance in front of him anymore. Or be in his presence in any other way, if he disliked me that much.

I stayed away from him for the next two days, which wasn't hard. Usually when I came back from work he was already gone. "Out clubbing" Alexis let me know and wiggled his eyebrows. We didn't even talk to each other when we accidentally ran into each other in the bathroom or anywhere else around the house.

*******

When the weekend came and another 'family dinner' came up before we'd all go out to do drag together at the club, I felt his eyes on me all through dinner. I ignored him and kept talking to Victoria in Spanish, knowing he didn't understand it.

"You want one?" he asked me, holding out a cigarette, when we were waiting for Jeffrey to bring the van around, our costumes already loaded into the car.

"I don't smoke," I told him.

"You're smarter than me, papi." He smirked and blew the smoke out into the night.

"I know." I mirrored his smile and laughed when he bumped his shoulder playfully into mine. Just like that we were talking again.

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Even now, years later, there are many things that remind me of his first week with us. The scent of the sunblock he used back then, feeling the hot wind of an even hotter summer's day against my skin or hearing one of the songs that played the night he first came to the club with us and saw me in drag the first time. Also anything that is hot and cold at the same time, like deep fried ice-cream; hot and cold, hot and cold, hot and cold like him during those first weeks. His mood changed so quickly I couldn't keep up and got burned each time. Freezer burn or burned by the heat, it didn't matter; the pain was still the same.

He stayed close while we got ready in the small changing room backstage. Alexis and Jeffrey were next door, but me and my drag sisters always got ready together and then the parents would join us and fix what we missed: Make up not blended correctly, a loose curl here or a missed button somewhere.

Brock wouldn't go on stage with us that night, he was just there. He watched us carefully, watched me carefully, but didn't offer help, not even when my zipper got stuck. Once Nivana had fixed it I turnedand said 'Thank you' in the same detached way he always did. Niv' got the joke and we both cracked up. He didn't laugh with us. Instead a meaningless small smile showed on his face and stayed there until we were in full drag.

I knew he was somewhere in the crowd when I hit the stage and did my first number of the night, could feel his gaze again. I crouched down, slowly went back up and shook my ass as much as I could. Did he want a piece of that? Did he want to touch me, not with looks but with his hands, his lips, his tongue, as much as I wanted to touch him? Did he like me better in or out of drag? Yet, I questioned if he liked me at all. His face was not giving anything away.

I should just stay away from him.

I de-dragged after my second number and wiped the make-up off the best I could, before I went out to the club.

"You drink Tequila?" he asked me when I had barely stepped out from behind the curtain and shoved a shot glass in my hand. I'd had three already on stage, but who was I to say no? I simply tapped my glass against his and we both downed the shot.

"Trade looks good tonight. Anyone you like?" I wanted to find out what he was into and smirked. Twinks? Bears? Muscle guys? Latinos? Fuck, I didn't even know if he was a top or bottom.

"Maybe." He didn't smile, didn't blink. Just looked over to he bar and ordered us two more shots.

"I'm gonna dance, white boy. You good here?" I didn't want an answer to the question, I just wanted to get away from him. His mood was killing my mood and that wasn't acceptable on a Friday night. This was the time for drag, drinks, drugs and sex. Screw him if he wanted to sulk in silence.

He surprised me by following me to the dance-floor. "I love that song."

"It's Ri-Ri, of course you love that song, bitch!" I exclaimed and started dancing. So did he and watched me at the same time once again.

"How do you do that?"

"What?"

"That move? How do you move your hips that way?" Heat shot through me, when I realised which part of my body his eyes were focussed on, his full attention on me.

"Ever tried belly dancing?" I gave him a smug smile and showed him the belly roll move, holding my shirt up with my chin so he could see it better.

"That's not the move I'm talking about." He was finally smiling, showing off his cute dimples. I did the same movement, but reversed the belly wave. He started laughing.

"Not the move either. And you know it." His eyes sparkled, his mouth was still laughing and I realised we were flirting with each other.

"Oh, you mean this move?" I moved my hips from side to side, as sensually as I could. Aware of his eyes on me I felt my dick getting hard. Wrong time for that, absolutely. He tried to mimic my movements, but failed.

"How'd you do it? What's the secret?" His tone was a mixture of frustration and amusement.

"Get on your tippy-toes, mami, and follow my fingers with your hips." I touched his right hip bone through his jeans, careful not to brush against any skin. Then his left lower back. Right lower back. Left front. Left back. Once he got the hang of it and loosened up, I stepped back, stopped touching him, ended the sweet torture and got my dick back under control before he would notice.

"I think I got it." He looked so damn proud of himself and his smile lit up the whole dance-floor.

"Keep going in figures of eight and you a belly dance ho now."

"Where did you learn that?"

"My dance teacher at school was half Egyptian and showed us. Just with different music." It switched back to hip hop, Ri-Ri long gone. I went back to dancing along to this beat, but Brock stopped.

"Thank you," he told me and it sounded as fake as always. He turned around and left me dancing on my own, while he went to the bar and chatted up some guy there. I was back to hating him, stupid asshole, and gave myself over to the music and the cute guy who came over a couple of minutes later, grinding against my body and feeling me up right there. I didn't give a fuck if Brock was watching us. He could say 'Thank you' for the show later.

*******

It was the next day, I was lying in my room, catching Pokemon, when he knocked and walked in before I even said something. He must have realised me giving him the cold shoulder after the night before. I hadn't really slept, because I kept wondering how much he had seen. Just the dancing and grinding? The kissing? The hand down my pants? The hand job in a dark corner of the club? Anything? Nothing? Did he even care? I had finally fallen asleep in the early morning hours when I made myself giggle by imagining him hooking up and then saying his fucking stupid 'Thank you' during or after.

"Wanna come swimming with me?"

"Pool or beach?"

"Pool.Vic and Niv' called, they're already there. Alexis told me." I nodded, switched my video game off and got up.

"I'm gonna change. Five minutes." When I made it downstairs he had a whole backpack with stuff. Later I found out it was sunscreen, food, a small ball and a book. We walked the short distance to the neighbourhood pool in silence. I didn't know what to say, without sounding stupid or getting a fucking 'Thank you' back. We took two chairs which were standing side by side and I took off my shirt, spread the towel out, lay down and closed my eyes. Imagining him shirtless was better than really seeing him shirtless, because he couldn't see my thoughts and dreams, but he could see where my eyes linger on his white, creamy skin, his nipples, his belly button.

I smelled the scent of his sunblock and could hear him squishing the tube and the way his hand glided over his own skin. I wanted him to ask me to rub the lotion on his back so badly. I dreaded him asking me to rub the lotion on his back even worse. He didn't ask me though, fucking bitch.

"Jose! Ven acá!" Vic yelled from the water and I opened my eyes. He even splashed some in my direction.

"Later," I replied and turned on my stomach, closed my eyes again, ignoring the chaos around me. Brock left, jumped into the water, joked around with my sisters and friends and finally came back out, towelled himself dry and sat down on his chair. I didn't see any of it, but I could hear it. Even when my eyes were closed all of my attention was on him, where he was and what he was doing.

"You're turning red," he said after I had felt him watching me for a while.

"I don't get sunburned. It'll be tan tomorrow," I muttered without opening my eyes.

I felt the luke-warm lotion first, before his cold hands touched my hot skin. Him touching me, running his hand over my lower back and rubbing the lotion in, nearly gave me a heart-attack. It felt like my brain short-circuited, I was rock hard in seconds and jumped in my chair when his thumb dipped into the dimple on my lower back, just above the seam of my swim-trunks.

"You ok?" he asked when I suddenly bolted up. It wasn't a conscious decision on my part, but more a reaction of my body to the sensual overload. I was mere seconds away from jumping him, sticking my tongue down his throat and humping his leg. This was all too much in public. What the fuck did he think he was doing? The look on his face was weird, eyes wide and serious, cheeks tinted with a light blush. I couldn't place it. I didn't want him to stop, wanted his hands back on my skin, all over my body. But at the same time I didn't, not here, surrounded by kids and their parents who were wary of the gay drag queens in their neighbourhood anyway.

"Bitch, your hands are ice cold and you ruining my tan with your fucking sunblock," I barked, got up and jumped into the pool to cool down. Hiding my hard on was also a lot easier under water than sitting next to him. Out of the corner of my eyes I looked at him and thought I saw panic or hurt on his face, just for a second, before it became the emotionless friendly mask again.

"Vic, tell him he needs sunscreen or he'll look like a lobster tomorrow. Skin cancer is not sexy," he told me sister, who quickly agreed with him. I splashed some water in her face to shut her up. He lay down on his chair, apparently not worried about burning his back and started reading his book, ignoring me and my wet body in the pool completely.

*******

That was also the night I saw him in drag for the first time. Back then I thought his drag persona Brooke Lynn wasn'ta lot different from his real life persona. Except, a lot sluttier in a more obvious way.I wasn't sure how far he had gone with the guy from the other night or what he had done while he had been clubbing alone before. I simply suspected, he was out and about fucking around. The way he spread his legs, rolled around the stage, used the poleand flirted with the trade in the audience when he was on stage, cemented that idea in my head. Brooke Lynn was a slut, as was her creator, I was sure of it.

Sunday he missed dinner without an explanation. No one knew where he was, just that he was 'out' somewhere.

"Found himself a boyfriend already," Alexis wondered and laughed.

"I betcha he's saying his fucking rude 'Thank you' during fucking him." I laughed, even though I felt like crying.

"You think he's rude?" Jeffrey joined the conversation.

"Bitch, don't tell me you haven't noticed that it never means shit when he says it. It fucking empty.He could say 'Fuck you' and it'd be the same shit."

"I think he's just shy." Alexis was usually really good at reading people, but I though he was way off this time. "And I think you'll like him once you get to know him better."

"What if I'll hate him once I get to know him better?" I huffed and puffed a bit more about the idea of liking him and him being shy and him being a good guy. I didn't know back then just how spot on Alexis was that night.

*******

I was working the early shift the next week and because we were also booked solid with gigs and rehearsals for Alexis' and Jen's next pageant, I had to get up extra early to go to the gym and walk Riley. As much as I was a creature of the night and liked sleeping in, there was something about seeing the sun rise over the ocean while driving by on the way to the gym. Traffic was quieter, a lot less people around and even the gym seemed less hectic and gave me time to wake up.

I was wideawake with a start when my eyes met familiar blue-green ones through the window of the tumbling room. It was too late, I couldn't just pretend that I hadn't seen him and had to say hi at least.

"Bitch, what are you doing up already? Shouldn't you be asleep instead of on your tippy toes? What are you doing here?" I teased him even though he wasn't dancing or wearing ballet shoes. I couldn't help it.

"I need to stretch and train every day or I'll lose the flexibility or the muscle memory of some stunts." He took a sip of water and wiped the sweat off his forehead with a towel. I realised he was wearing the ugly T-shirt with the hole again. It made me grin.

"So, twinkle toes, show me what you got." He looked uncomfortable for a second, then jumped into a backwards handspring.

"Shit, mami, how did you do that?" I jumped forward, eyes wide. I was barely able to do a decent cartwheel and he could perform these kind of stunts?

"Want me to teach you?" he offered and looked more comfortable and relaxed than I had seen him this far. That was also the only reason why I agreed. He explained what he wanted me to do and then guided me through the movements. We laughed and joked while he taught me, focussed on the tension in my body, the right way to jump and the correct way to land. It took me a while, but then I was able to do it on my own. It wasn't as graceful as his, but I didn't break my neck and landed on my feet.

"Thanks, boo. You rock as a teacher, but I have to go." I realised I had to hurry if I didn't want to be late for work. The lack of time also helped with the question of how to say bye and putting it on the back of my mind that while teaching he had touched me again. Nothing sexy, nothing sensual, just his hands to stabilise me in the air so I wouldn't fall. They had been gone again before my feet touched the ground.

*******

Hours later I was still thinking about his smile and the way his shoulders slumped for once while he helped me with the tumbling. The tension that made him stand ramrod straight had been gone during these moments.

"Hey." At first I thought the voice was part of my daydream. Then he spoke again and I realised that the blonde object of my jumbled thoughts and emotions was standing in front of me in the MAC store.

"What are you doing here?"

"I think I heard that one before today." We both laughed. It was true. And it broke the ice and blockage in my brain.

"How can I help you Sir?" I asked politely and glanced over a my boss, who was watching me. She was a friend of mine, but he didn't need to know that.

"I need new foundation because I got a bit of a tan. And probably new lipstick."

"You could have just texted me and I would have brought all the stuff home with me," I told him once he paid for four different lipsticks, a new highlighter, new foundation and a couple of different lashes. I gave him my discount, of course, even though he insisted it wasn't necessary.

"Don't have your phone number. And I needed some other stuff anyway." He didn't carry any other bags, so whatever he had bought so far must be small enough to fit onto the pocket of his shorts. I handed him the bag with his purchase, then picked up his phone, told him to unlock it and added my number. For emergencies, I told him.

"Hey, you know what you really need?" I asked him when he was half-way out the store. He turned around and raised one eyebrow. "New shirts. This one has a hole in it under your left arm." He checked, blushed, rolled his eyes and then raised the bag I had given him.

"Thank you," he said in his usual tone. That's when I realised that Alexis was right.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The belly dancing scene is loosely inspired by a scene in the movie "Whatever Lola wants".


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter mentions the use of drugs. Please, don't use drugs, don't buy them and don't sell them. This is not meant to advertise them, but merely an attempt to realistically depict what goes on in these clubs... (not that any of the rl people mentioned ever did any of this. Keep in mind this is pure fiction)

**Chapter 3**

We fell into a rhythm of spending time together: In the mornings, before I had to go to work, we would work out together at the gym and he would teach me dance moves or tumbling. In the evening, when I came back we would eat together and I taught him a trick or two about make-up or sit and watch as Alexis taught him to sew. I was supposed to learn as well, but I knew the basics and was ok with that. I learned about ballet and he learned about video games. We learned we liked the same kind of movies and TV shows. We both liked pets. We both loved pizza and sushi.

He got along with everyone though. He was friendly and polite and I quickly realised that he was actually very flirty when he wasn't confronted with a lot of strangers at once. He flirted with the bar keepers at the clubs, my drag sisters, the gay pool guard. But not with me, not anymore.

It made me angry when I tried flirting with him, tried being cute and sexy and yet, nothing worked. We were cool as long as I treated him like any other of my sisters. But whenever he thought I was flirting with him, he got that angry look on his face. One time he just walked away and I didn't see him for hours afterwards. He made me feel like a complete idiot. However, the worst was yet to come.

In the middle of his second week he was usually coming out at night with whoever was performing. He sat on the bar and watched.

It was Jen's night on stage and even though I was incredibly tired from working early mornings and staying up late, I still came along. I helped Jen with the make-up and her costume while Brock vanished into the crowd.

I found him flirting with Tony, a guy who worked as a barkeeper but was off that night. I got myself a drink, and leaned back against the bar, watching them instead of the show. They cheered the girls on, then cheered each other on as they danced, then kissed, then groped each other, right there on the dance floor.

I hated what I saw, but I still watched, imagined that it was me instead of Tony.

I felt like a stalker, because since he had arrived all I did was watch him, dream about him, fantasise about him. No wonder he wanted nothing to do with me; I was a creep. A young, stupid creep, who amused him by botching up words and annoyed him by trying to flirt with him. If he knew how many times I had jerked off to fantasies of him, he'd never talk to me again or kick my ass.

When Jen was done I fled backstage, carefully avoiding the hot and heavy couple on the dance-floor.

"You've seen some powdered donuts around?"

"Ask Maya, he has some," she replied, after she gave me a surprised look. I usually wasn't the one to instigate, I just went along for the ride when the rest did it. "Bring me some, Vanj'." I was back with the coke a couple of minutes later. Brock was now backstage as well, alone. I ignored him and simply started to arrange the line on one of the mirrors. I went first, Jen second. There was still some left."B? Want some?" Jen asked him.

"Sure," he shrugged, surprising me with his answer. I didn't wait for him and just left, bumped into his prey on the way out and shoved my shoulder a bit harder when I realised who it was.

The lights were alway a little brighter after a line, the music louder, the mood better, people prettier. I found a guy I hooked up with before, danced with him, kissed him. He smelled nice, tasted good, knew how to dance and how to touch me. For a couple of blissful minutes I forgot about Brock. I gave myself over to the music and the kisses.

"I got some weed. Want some? Go outside?" he asked me, when we had to come up for air. I wanted to say no, but then Brock and Tony entered my line of vision and I nodded. The back-alley was empty. We made out against the wall, before he dug the joint out of his pocket, lit it up and took a drag before he handed it to me. I used to hate the smell of it, but I'd got used to it over the years. Drugs and drag belong together in a way. It's not a part I was too fond of, but I'd learned to make use of it when I wanted to. Honestly, the only reason why I wasn't using more often was because I knew it would break my momma's heart.

I took the joint and inhaled, quickly hid it beside my body when the heavy metal door slammed open. I brought the joint back to my lips when I saw the absolute last person I wanted to be around, come through the door.

"There you are." It's an obvious statement and doesn't explain why he was there, alone.

"Sorry, spot's taken," I replied, took another drag.

"May I?" Brock took the joint from my fingers without waiting for a reply. He inhaled, then stubbed it out against the wall. "Thought you didn't smoke."

"Who are you? My mother?" My friend laughed, like I made the funniest joke ever. Brock didn't reply, just pulled a pack of cigarettes out and lit one up. He held it out towards me, I didn't take it.

"Vanj, you coming back inside, babe?" Our staring contest got interrupted.

"Just a sec'." He went back inside and left us alone. I took the cigarette and started smoking. It was better than slapping the smug look of his face orpressing him against the wall and kissing him senseless. "Tony's hot. Nice guy, too," I said to break the silence. "I think Vic fucked him once . Or was it Jeliza? Dunno, but he walked 'round naked the next morning before he took a shower. Nice dick, too, nice ass."

"Are you trying to set me up with him?"

"Didn't look like you need it. Good choice though. I'd fuck him." I shrugged.

"I'd prefer it if you let me decide who I think is fuck-able or not." He flipped his cigarette into the night, anger radiating from him.

"Ok, boo. Calm your ass down. Won't say nothing no more." I pushed away from the wall and went back inside. As soon as I saw my flavour of the night again, I danced towards him, kissed him when I reached him and let the drugs and the music make me forget once more.

After we got home, I spent the rest of the night throwing up. The mix of drugs, cigarettes and alcohol a horrible choice and Alexis kicked my ass for it the next day even worse than my hangover.

*******

Brock and I stopped talking again. I had nothing to say to him. He had nothing to say to me. The night after the club I didn't go to the gym, because of my hangover. He didn't ask me about it. The next day I was still too angry to join him. The day after that, I got angry about him not asking me where I'd been. On my day off I simply stayed in bed and didn't go to the gym at all, not even in the evening. When I came back from work the next day and joined the rest of the family in the living room, I realised how close he'd got to all my drag-sisters and Alexis. He didn't need me no more to hang out or show him stuff.

"Jo, can you bring the new contouring palette with you tomorrow? Without your discount it's unaffordable. I wanna show B some of my magic make-up tricks," Jen' asked and I realised that even our make-up time had easily been transferred to someone else.

"Sure, sis." I shrugged, totally unaffected. Then I went upstairs to my room, lay down on my bed and cried, feeling like a fucking loser. I barely slept that night or the next.

*******

"Shouldn't you be asleep? Early shift and all?" Brock's voice came from behind me two nights later as I sat outside on the front steps, looking out to the street and sweating slightly, out in the warm summer's night.

"Mmmh. Can't sleep." He sat down beside me, so close our arms brushed. I wanted to ask him why he was home, when everyone else was clubbing and he hadn't spent a single night home yet. I didn't ask though, too scared of his evasive answer or another comment that would make me feel stupid.

"I finally bought new T-shirts today." I couldn't help but smile, because he remembered my comments about the holes in his shirts. And not only that, but he acted because of them.

"Thought your ass had bought new clothes before. Or what did you buy at the outlet?"

"Just a new bathing suit and some trainers." He lit up a cigarette and held it out to me. I shook my head. "You mind?" he asked me then and I shook my head again. Then we were silent. He smoked and I didn't want to lose the feeling of bliss that came with him sitting beside me and acting on my recommendation. Maybe he didn't hate me after all? "It's late, I'm going to bed. Gym tomorrow." He was the one to break the silence when he was done smoking and got up.

"G'night."

"You gonna join me at the gym tomorrow? Maybe you can finally teach me the death drop?"

"You got it, mami."

"Sleep tight, papi," he smiled at me, squeezed my shoulder and went back inside the house. I slept that night and got up early the next morning to join him at the gym. It was crazy how much this stupid crush on him was affecting me.

*******

Alexis' pageant friends came over for dinner that Friday, before they'd do a big show together. I was booked as a dancer for the night-show but not for the pageant, since I couldn't travel at the moment because of work. When I got home that evening, I only had half an hour to get ready. I quickly went upstairs, glad that the bathroom was free and I could shower. I locked the door andundressed. Once in the shower I saw Brock's shampoo and shower gel standing next to mine. I couldn't help myself, opened both and smelled them. Then I used both, felt naughty and excited at the same time. The scent of him surrounded me in the shower and it was easy to close my eyes and imagine he was there with me. I got hard. I quickly took care of it, his scent still everywhere in the bathroom. Once I was done and the evidence of it washed down the drain, I got out and panicked. What if he could smell himself on me? What if one could see what I had done?

I used the vanilla scented body lotion, I usually only used in drag and then doused myself in cologne, even more than usual, once I was dressed. I added a hat so no one would smell his shampoo in my hair.

During dinner I was paranoid at first, but then enjoyed it. It was my own little secret, his scent on my skin and my hair. It was exhilarating and I talked even more stupid shit than usual and made everyone laugh, Brock included.

"I am the king of the world!" I yelled at some point before we all left for the club, but no one really knew why I chose those words but me. They just cracked up.

"Come on, Jack, I'm driving," Brock teased, took my car keys from me and drove us to the club and later back home again. I was in fucking seventh heaven.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!

**Chapter 4**

I spent my next day off at the beach with Brock and my good Judy Silky, who was in town for a pageant.

"So, wait a minute. Alexis is training this white bitch so she can win Miss Continental, while I've known her for a long time and I am not invited? That's some bullshit!" Silky had been ranting about the fact since I introduced Brock and explained why he was staying with us.

"Bitch, you've known Alexis for five months and only because I introduced you." I felt the need to point out and hoped to put an end to the conversation. No such luck. Silky scorned was a force of her own. Brock and I kept exchanging glances.

"She should have known about me for much longer! She saw me at the pageant. We went up against each other. She should have known who I was, 'cause I am fabulous!" I had run into Silky at one of Alexis' pageants and we had hit it off as friends.

"Apparently not fabulous enough for her to notice you." I spit out the juice I drank when I heard Brock's comment. Shit was about to go down, that was for sure.

"Biiitch, you a shady ho!" Silky exclaimed and I was glad we were nearly alone at that part of the beach. Our swearing around kids had got us into trouble with worried parents more than once. "Shady Brooke! How the fuck can you stand this bitch around you all day?" I hadn't mentioned anything about my crush to Silky and I hoped he wouldn't notice, because he would tease me and most likely reveal it to Brock in an attempt to play matchmaker. I had to live with him for another four weeks though and hoped to avoid that kind of embarrassment.

"Maybe because I don't throw a pity party for myself?" Brock made me laugh again. That kind of shade and wit had come out from time to time when he was with me, then he always had a come back, no matter what I said. Around strangers he was usually either quiet or flirty. I knew he must like Silky if he was just being himself, shade and all.

"Pity party? Vanj, you better help me hide the body, because I am gonna whoop his ass."

"First you have to get me." Brock laughed, pulled me up by my wrist and made me run into the sea with him. By the time Silky made it down, we were already involved in a playful water fight.

"Would you two hos stop with the splashing? I can't see shit with all the water on my glasses."We stopped to get some sort of truce and Silky's complaints came to a halt.

*******

"So, Vanj', tell me, did you finally get yourself a new boo?" We were back on our towels, lying next to each other, watching the waves.

"Nah, still single."

"What about that guy from the club?" Brock's question surprised me, because he had never asked about it before.

"What guy from the club?"

"Just some trade, nothing serious."

"He not the good pussy?" Silky dug deeper. "He not boyfriend material?"

"Don't know about that. We never really fucked. You know, I don't do that with trade. At least not often." I had to admit the last part.

"Have you heard from…" I interrupted Silky, before he could go on. I knew who he was talking about.

"No."

"He wasn't good enough anyway. You deserve a real prince with a real large dick! Not that fucking asshole who only break your heart again and again because you too good and forgive him for all the stupid shit he done and did."

"He was no Noah. Fucking cheater."

"Your ex?" Brock wanted clarification.

"Yup." I was done talking about that. "What about you, Silks? Got yourself a boyfriend in Chicago?"

"Nah, this sexy bitch is still single. But I also don't have the time. I really want to finish my Bachelor's real good because I wanna get my master's next."

"You a smart ho." I commented Silky's academic career plan.

"So are you."

"Me?" I snorted. Smart was one thing no one had ever called me.

"You could do it if you just worked hard."

"I barely made it through High School, Silks."

"High School grades have shit to do with how smart you are."

"Thanks, Silky, but my ADHD ass can barely talk without fucking up the words and it even worse when I try to read."

"Why are you always putting yourself down?" Brock spoke up with a serious look on his face.

"So others won't?" I replied and shrugged.

"You really believe you're dumb?" Brock's hand came to rest on my towel, his fingertips barely grazing the skin of my thigh.

"Don't matter what I think." I felt my eyes start to water.

"It does matter." He insisted and I could feel Silky watching us with interest.

"What about you? You ever went to College?" I turned the attention to him and swallowed my tears.

"Nope, just ballet school," he laughed. "That's worse."

"Yo, I'm not interested in his academic career. Tell us about your sexy career! Any boyfriend up in Canada?" Silky asked the really interesting question. Why hadn't I asked this before? Brock just laughed and told us that he was very single. The relief I felt was overwhelming and stupid at the same time. Just because he was single didn't mean I stood a chance. He'd just stop talking to me again, if I tried once more.

After the beach we went for dinner and talked some more about guys, my love for romantic movies and music. After a couple of drinks I started to ramble about my perfect guy. It's a miracle I didn't reveal my crush on Brock back then. Somehow I managed to keep that hidden. I talked about love, romance, grand gestures, loyalty and devotion. About candle lit dinners and sunsets; about someone who'd have my back no matter what. My ride and die, one and only, 'til death do us part. The one who'd love me as much as I'd love him. Silky stops me at some point, with comments about how I just need some dick for now until I'd find all that. Brock just listens, eats his food and remains silent. Not once does he say something to any of it. Only when we start rating the hotness of our fellow drag sisters is he back on board. In the situation I didn't notice his silence. Only later, when I thought about that dinner again, looking for clues in every moment we spent together.

*******

"Hey where you going?" I was surprised by the question, because his interest in me and my whereabouts was unexpected. Enjoying his attention and wanting more of it, I took a risk. I told him I was going to my mom's place for lunch and asked him if he wanted to come along.

I was rewarded with a car ride filled with questions about my mother my family and my upbringing. He was kind of tight lipped about talking about all these things when it came to him, but I didn't mind. I would have told him every secret I'd ever had, just to keep him talking to me, make him laugh and smile and touch my arm from time to time like he did during the half hour drive.

My mom and brother were surprised I brought a guest, but didn't mind at all. Brock laughed more than ever before watching my mom and me. By the end of lunch I was flushed and sweaty, my voice hoarser than usual because of our antics. Dancing, yelling, jumping, screeching and simply talking ridiculous shit, just for his personal amusement. So he'd never stop looking at me with them twinkling eyes and never stop laughing. I was sure I could feel his happiness inside my own chest, spreading through my whole body and making me feel like I was floating above the ground.

"Does he know you like him?" I was glad my brother had taken Brock to look for our cats, to introduce them, because my mom was as incapable as talking quietly as I was.

"Sure, we spent a lot a time together at the Mateo's. Would be a mess, if we hating on each other."

"Mijo, pink hearts are flying 'round your head and out of your eyes when you look at him. He good lookin, he nice. Make a move or someone else will." My momma's advice was always a bit unusual and more 'go for it' than other parents'. She had raised tree boys on her own though, so she wasn't a fan of tiptoeing around anything.

"I tried. He don't want me."

"He fuckin'crazy and dumb if he don't want you. And I don't think he crazy or dumb. Trust your mama. Or as Alexis always sayin' 'BAM!'!" She made me laugh and gave me new hope. I decided I'd try again, just once more. But not at the club or when we were both stupid drunk.

Once we left, he asked me if I could show him the 'most beautiful sparkly beach' my mom had told him about and I agreed. It was the perfect opportunity. After fooling around in the water for a while we lay next to each other on our towels, waiting to dry so we could drive back home.

"Your family's nice. Especially your mom."

"She the best. I love her so much."

"Thats why you got the tattoo? That's her name, right?" he tapped my wrist with his index finger and I held my arm up so he could see it better. It wasn't exactly what I wanted to talk about, but I didn't mind talking about her.

"Yeah. She's my everything. My best friend, my rock, my biggest fan." He looked thoughtful when my eyes found his.

"Must be nice." I nearly choked on all the questions I wanted to ask when he said that, but I didn't dare. These three words already said so much more than he'd ever said before on the subject.

"This is nice," I sighed instead when it all got too intense, and closed my eyes in contentment. It really was. The perfect day: Lunch with my mom, sunshine, no work, the beach and all with him by my side.

"You mean this?" He asked and made a motion with his hand towards the sea. "Or…" He didn't finish the sentence.

"Us?" I asked, taking my momma's advice. "Mmh, we not bad. Not bad at all, boo," I closed my eyes again and smirked. It was maybe not the head-on approach my mother had in mind, but it was flirting.

I totally tried to play it cool, but I was so nervous. My relaxed posture the complete opposite from what I was feeling, especially because I knew he was watching me in silence. I felt him move next to me, rolling onto his side and pretended to keep my eyes closed, but opened them just a bit so I could see what was going on. Slowly he cupped my face and turned my head in his direction. I wished I had shaved that day so my stubble wouldn't scratch his palm, that felt so soft against my skin. His caressed my lips with one finger, like he was committing them to memory by touch. It was tickling and tingling and so was my whole body.

There was just the warm sand underneath me, the salty wind on my overheated skin and the sound of the waves rolling in when he finally leaned down and kissed me, barely. I was starving for more and leaned up, followed his lips with mine when he tried to pull back and kissed him, just a tad deeper. Then his mouth was gone from mine. I opened my eyes, unsure if this had just really happened. Just the movement of him sitting back down on his own towel, facing the ocean again gave me the assurance that I hadn't been daydreaming this time.

"Better now?" he asked quietly, but with a confidence that seemed pretend. Mine suddenly was real though. I scrambled up, leaned over and kissed him. Really kissed him. This was no peck or gentle meeting of our lips. I wanted him to know that I wanted him, wanted this kiss to have everything: tongues, wetness, smacking, nibbling, moans.

I didn't get as far as I wanted, before he slowly pushed me back with his large white hand spread out on my darker chest, nearly fully covering the tattoo I had there. "We shouldn't do this."

"What? Why?" I felt like either I was losing my mind or he was. What the fuck was going on?

"I'm not what you want or need," he said and stopped me once more when my lips where just drawn to his and I couldn't help but try and kiss him again.

"This is pretty clearly telling what you want and need, mama," I replied and ground my hips down, brushing against his erection, which I could feel very clearly.

"Jose, please. I'm trying to be good here. Just… don't, ok?" He pushed me slowly back on my own towel.

"Fine." I knew I was pouting likea little kid, but couldn't help it. I wanted to yell at him, about how he had no problem being bad with all these other bitches. I wanted to slap him for rejecting me. To this day I can't say what exactly stopped me. It was something in his eyes, something akin to sadness and regret. Still, I felt the need to get away from this situation, to take care of the wound he had opened again. "We should drive home or we'll get stuck in traffic."

*******

"We'll go back to ignoring each other and not talk, right?" I stated when I pulled into our street.

"Don't say that."

"It's the fuckin' truth and we both know it. You take the gym in the morning again, me in the evening." I put the car into park.

"Papi," I heard as I walked towards the house and he followed me. He caught up to me quickly and rested his hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze as I unlocked the door. He kept it there all the way through the entry way and up the stairs. It finally fell away when I walked to my room. I missed it, but not as much as his lips on mine.

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I can't say if my prediction about not talking would have come true or not, but I simply didn't see him the next day. I got up, drove to work, had lunch with my colleagues and then went home. The day dragged on, minutes seemed like hours as I kept going over every word from the night before. Why did he kiss me, just to stop? Did he have any idea what he was doing to me? Was he simply playing me for a fool with a stupid game? His hard-on had been no game though, I knew that. I could still feel him hard and hot underneath my palm.

Alexis and Jeffrey were there when I got home and told me that some queens would be over for dinner once again. I wasn't too happy about that, but it was their house. I told them I'd stop by the gym before, but would be back in time. I absolutely still needed to work on some new dance moves for my own routine. I hoped and feared that Brock would be at the gym, didn't know what I wished for. He knew I'd be there, so if he wanted to see me outside of the house it would be his chance. I was distracted the whole time while I rehearsed. He didn't show up.

When I got back home my knee was so swollen I could barely walk, every step hurt like a bitch.

"Jose, te estamos esperando." Alexis could nag like a real mom, but I was in no mood to eat with all of them. Still, I had to say hello at least. So I limped into the room and gave them all a small wave and tried to smile.

"Me lastime," I let them know what happened again.

"Tu rodilla?" I nodded and left, stopped by the kitchen to get some ice and then slowly climbed the stairs, gritting my teeth against the pain. I sat down on my bed and placed the ice on my knee when there was a knock on my door and it opened.

"Jose?" Brock was looking in, then came in when he saw me and closed the door behind him. "What's wrong?" He placed a plate with food on the small table beside my bed.

"Was distracted and twisted my knee."

"Is it my fault?" He sat down on the bed beside me and looked worried. He looked like a guest in a hospital room.

"You didn't fuck it up. That happened years ago when I was dancing in high school. One wrong move and it always acts up," I shrugged and let him take the bag with ice from my hand. He looked at my knee, then his eyes trailed down over my thigh, to my foot and back up.

"May I?" he nodded towards the swollen mess as his hand hovered over it.

"You a doctor now?" I teased, but winced when he touched my knee. It fucking hurt. What was he doing? I gripped his arm, held onto it, but kept my mouth shut. I feared that he would stop if I complained. Feeling his hand on me and have it hurt, was still better than not feel him and hurt even more in a different way. A way that was more torturousthan my knee could ever be.

"Ballet dancer. We're used to injuries." He kept pressing down on my knee, exploring, examining with his fingers. I let him, even though I didn't know what he was trying to find. I gripped his shoulder when it hurt again. "You need to relax the muscles," he advised. I let my hand fall to his clavicle, touched it gently with one finger when I stopped hurting for a moment. I wished I could kiss him right there. Press my lips to the space between his shoulder and his neck, suck on it, taste it, nibble on it and mark it with my teeth. I wanted him to carry my mark and let everyone one know that he was mine, as I was his; even without any traces of him on my skin.

"Sure. Easy thing to do when you in pain, idiot," I grumped and looked away from the tempting spot. His touch was painful, but I was still disappointed when he took his hand off my knee. Then he moved me, so my feet were in his lap, wrapped his large hands around one foot, started massaging it, digging his thumbs into its heel. I melted underneath his hands and couldn't stop a moan from escaping my throat. It was pleasure because of the relaxation it provided and a different pain when he found the tense spots. Our eyes met and he didn't look away this time. We stared into each others eyes like it was a contest who would chicken out first. I didn't. He didn't. He just kept massaging. I kept moaning. Then moved on and did the same to my other foot.

"If the swelling's not down tomorrow, I'll take you to a doctor." It wasn't a question. He placed the ice back on my knee, leaned down and pressed a kiss to the foot he still held. He broke the intense eye contact when he turned and grabbed the plate he had brought me. "Here, eat." I took the plate with the different vegetables and some salad and bread. I couldn't speak, the touch and the kiss too much to process. So I ate as he watched me, my legs still resting on his thighs. He told me about his day, about his training about how he had cooked with Alexis and about the dinner. I was barely able to listen, in awe about the fact that he was really talking to me, without reservations, without me digging and prodding. I wanted to remember every word and still they flew past me as I basked in the sound of his voice.

I realised he had asked me a question when there was suddenly silence. "What?" I was back to feeling like an absolute idiot.

"You want me to bring you some dessert? I think Alexis said something about pudding."

"Nah, I'm good, mama. But thank you."

"Ok, then I'll leave you to it. Take some ibuprofen if you have some. Doesn't look like there's bleeding so you can take it. It will help with the pain and the swelling." I reached out to grab his shirt sleeve to make him stay, when he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead, then my lips, oh so softly. I froze, closed my eyes and hoped for more. 'He cares' shot through my head and the thought even dulled the pain in my knee for a second. I opened my eyes again when I heard the door close and he was gone. He'd taken the empty plate with him.

A while later I heard him in his room. Heard him open and close the closet, then listened as he took a shower, got dressed, used the toilet, washed his hands, left. The closing of the front door seemed to echo through the house. His rental started and he was gone, alone. I tried to wait up, but fell asleep.

He woke me up when he closed the bathroom door. When I checked the time it was past five already. I knew he'd just change and then leave for the gym. I also knew he'd spent the night elsewhere. With someone else. After kissing me, and caring for me and touching me and talking to me.

"Traitor," I whispered intothe darkness of my room, closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep again. "Fucking traitor," I repeated when he switched the shower on for the second time that night, most likely to wash the traces of another person off his body. A person who wasn't me. I hated him again. Traitor!

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's time the story earned it's rating ;)

**Chapter 6**

I refused to hang with the traitor. I was sick of him playing with me. Kissing me one second, fucking someone else the next. I kept reminding myself of that night whenever I felt my anger becoming less intense. Sulking and being offended was my fucking right after what he did.

It took him two days until he tried talking to me during dinner. He asked how my knee was. After two days! He might have convinced me he cared even a little bit, had he checked on me the day after I got hurt, like he had promised. 'I will take you to the doctor' my ass! He didn't give a shit about me and I had come to accept it. I promised myself, I wouldn't cry over him no more and go back to my old life, the one where he didn't exist. Where I didn't love him.

"Nearly fucked with Mick in the dark-room last night," I told Vic' while we were glueing rhinestones to yet another dress. Of course, I was aware that Brock was there and heard us. I wanted him to know I didn't need him one bit; not for my knee and not for my dick.

"Really? Good for you. He's cute," he grinned. "Why didn't you?"

"Was fucking crowded and stank. Don't wanna fuck no one in that disgusting shit-hole."

"Since when are darkrooms sanitary. First time in one?" Brock spoke up. Who had given this ho the right to say something?!

"I prefer a bed to go all night. Not that a ho like you would understand. Bet the darkroom in your home town has a spot reserved just for you," I replied and moved my hips obscenely. Vic shrieked with laughter and I joined him, mocking the Canadian slut. He didn't reply, just went back to sewing and finally left us alone in the backyard.

"You like him?" Vic asked once we were alone.

"Like him? Bitch, that asshole is annoying as fuck! I'mma be glad when he gone and I get my room back." It was a lie and not at the same time. I didn't know anymore what I was feeling. Did I really want him gone?

"I think he's cool. And I think he likes you. Always asks questions about what ya doing, where ya at…"

"Funny, cause he ain't talking to me. That's for sure."

"Did you fight or something? You got along at first."

"Yeah, when he needed me for my car and to show him around. But you know what? It is what it is. Another two weeks and he'll be gone!"

It took another two days of silence when I got a text message from Brock. It was close to midnight. 'Are you home? Can we talk?'. I was beyond surprised and even now I still don't know what made him sent it, because it was so out of character for him. Also, I knew that he wasn't home and I suspected he was out hooking up with someone.

"Yeah. I'm in bed already'. It wasn't exactly agreeing to talk, but neither was it a refusal. The ball was back in his court. My phone remained silent. I wanted to punch him again.

After about half an hour the door to my room opened and he stepped in, then closed it quietly. I switched the bedside lamp on and sat up as he came closer. He stopped beside the bed and looked at me, but didn't speak.

"Didn't you have something to say?" I provoked him after he took too long for my taste.

"I'm nervous," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. I looked at him more closely. He looked perfectly calm to me. Then I noticed that his fingers twitched from time to time. His eyes were wide. It was barely there, but when you looked closely enough, you could see that he was telling the truth. I didn't know why he was nervous or why he wanted to talk to me, but the hard exterior I had shown him, cracked. I couldn't keep up the act.

"Sit," I said and tapped my hand against the side of my bed. It was the place where he'd sat five days ago when he had come to check, if I was ok.

He sat down. "You're ok?" he asked and pointed to my knee, obviously remembering the same scene.

"I'm ok." He was quiet and so was I. I was still waiting for what he had come to tell me. I tried not to react when he traced the tattoo on my right hand with his index finger, ran it along the letters. He seemed to think about something and I let him, waited patiently for once, because what other choice did I have? Who knew what he was going to say?

He looked me in the eyes, stilled his hand and had apparently made a decision. "Can I kiss you?" he asked. I didn't give him any reply other than leaning forward in his direction. Refusing him never crossed my mind. He closed the rest of the gap between us and finally his lips were back against mine. He must have been smoking before coming to me, because I could still taste the cigarettes. I didn't care at all. I just wanted him to keep kissing me.

"Does this make you happy?" he whispered against my lips. I nodded, smiled and pulled him back down. Finally I was able to glide my tongue in his mouth and find his. He didn't stop me, didn't pull back. Instead he brought me flush against his chest, deepened the kiss. Without letting go of him, I went up on my knees, climbed out from underneath the covers and straddled his legs. Now he had to look up when he kissed me. I wrapped both my arms around his neck, refused to let him escape again. He explored me with his hands, ran them through my hair, down my back, under my shirt and finally cupped my ass, massaged it and pulled my groin into his, our hard cocks meeting through the fabric. We both moaned.

"You haven't talked. Or is this what you wanted to say?" I asked him, then licked his lips with my tongue, tugged on his lower lip with my teeth.

He shrugged his shoulders. "You wanna talk?" I definitely didn't want to talk. Instead, I pulled on his shirt, tried to pull it up, but it didn't budge since I was sitting on it.

"Off, off," I muttered, frustrated and wondered, if I should just rip it off him. Wouldn't be the first shirt of his with holes in it. My frustration amused him and he leaned back, then pulled the shirt over his head himself.

"Off, off," he repeated my words and took off my shirt as well. We looked at each other in the dim light of the small lamp, smiled. We kissed again when he lay me down on my back on the bed, explored me some more with his hands alone as I did the same. I was painfully hard in the shorts I wore to bed, his weight on top of me not helping the matter. He undressed me, undressed himself, stopped in between to kiss me some more.

I was usually dominant in bed, dictated the pace, explored and teased. Not this time. I felt so sexy just lying there naked before him as he explored my body. I wanted to the same to him, but couldn't. When he brought his mouth down around my cock and sucked me, I thought I'd be done any second. He licked the head, must have tasted me and pulled back, looked me in the eyes.

I reached over and fished the condoms and lube out of a box standing by my bed. He took both items from my hands and I followed his movements with my eyes. Then the condom was rolled down over his hard, weeping dick and I got prepped with the cold lube. I felt some panic and knew I should say something. I didn't. I wanted him too much, wanted this too much. His weight was back on top of me, his hot breaths hitting my left ear. It was painful when he entered me, I was in no way prepared for this, especially not for his size. I gritted my teeth, squeezed me eyes shut and tried to relax. He kissed me again, I kissed him back hard. It was wet, sloppy and loud; distracted me from the painful burning stretch.

"You ok?" he asked me for the second time that night and wiped a tear off my cheek with his thumb.

"Yeah." I had to clear my throat before I could reply. "Move," I asked him then, brought my hands down to his ass and squeezed, pulled him more into me. "Please."

He did. Slowly at first, then faster, harder. The pain lessened, but didn't go away. We rutted against each other until he groaned, dropped his head on my shoulder and finished inside of me. I held him as he came down, glided my hands over his back and listened as his breathing slowed to a normal frequency. He slid out of me and I hissed.

"Did you…?" he looked down between us, but didn't find any wetness there. I hadn't come, but was still soft. I felt embarrassed without knowing why. I pressed my lips against his again, so he would stop looking at my limp cock.

He took the condom off, tied it and lay back down, his head on my chest. "I'm sorry," he told me and kissed my breast bone, glided his tongue against my ribs. It tickled and made me smile, the pain momentarily forgotten, courage coming back to me.

"I've never bottomed before." My confession was met with silence, then he looked up at me, moved off of my body.

"God Jose! Did I hurt you?" he asked and my facial expression must have given me away. "I never meant to hurt you. I'm so sorry! I just assumed…" he trailed off, guilt written all over his beautiful face.

"Calm down, mama. I wanted it. Yes, it hurt, but I'll live," I pulled him towards me, felt better when his weight was pressing me into the thin mattress again. "You know, we could try again… I mean, I haven't…."

"You want to bottom again?" He looked disbelievingly at me.

"I liked having you inside of me. Just… slower this time. Let me get used to you," I requested. I should have told him before. It was ridiculous that he felt guilty now because I had pretended I was used to bottoming. One word from me and he would have stopped, I knew that.

We started kissing again and this time I got to taste him and explore him. When we were both hard again I rolled the condom down on him with my mouth and he nearly came. He was careful, prepped me with his fingers and drove me out of my mind in the process. It was still a bit uncomfortable when he pushed back into my body, but not painful anymore. It was nothing but bliss once he found my prostate. Never had I felt anything like that as a top. I knew there was no going back, when I came all over my chest and his, seconds before he finished inside of me for the second time that night.

"You think someone heard us?" he asked me while he cleaned himself with his discarded shirt.

"And what if they did? Someone always brings trade back here," I shrugged.

"What do we say when they ask?"

"Nothing. None of their business. I never say anything anyway." It was the truth. I didn't like talking about sex the way others did. General sex jokes were one thing, but doing it was between the two people who did it and should remain between them. I wiped myself clean when he handed me the shirt, then threw it on the floor. "You staying?" I asked him, lay back and opened my arms.

"I am," he smiled at me and gave me a lingering kiss. Then he climbed back into bed and wrapped the duvet around both of us, cuddled me against his side. "Thank you."

It was these two words that made me freeze, ice filling my veins and dread stopped my breath. These meaningless two words. They made me doubt everything that had just happened between us, made me doubt the honesty and the feelings behind the act on his part. Because of these two words I already knew he wouldn't be in bed when I woke up the next morning, though I hadn't even closed my eyes yet.

I was proven right when I woke up alone in bed, freezing cold from the inside out.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Early in the morning, after I realised he was gone, I first took care of the bruises the night had left, both the real ones and the ones on my heart. The later hurt a whole fucking lot more than anything else, first time bottoming or not. I wished I could just stay in bed and hide away. When I pressed my face into the pillow though, his scent was all over it and I needed to get away. I got up, still naked and ripped the bedsheet and covers off the bed, then went to shower and get dressed. I didn't want to wash him off my skin, wanted to keep him there forever, but it felt so wrong. It nearly disgusted me to remember his seed on my body, his lips on mine. His fucking 'thank you' in my ear.

I was feeling antsy and needed to get away from my thoughts, but I feared I would run into him at the gym. I simply didn't want to see him no more. He'd fucked me, thanked me and now he was done with me. Maybe I would be able to get him out of my system now. I was still aching from the sex and not in a good way. Maybe I could talk myself into blaming him for it? It wasn't like he had asked.

I was very early to work that day, the first one in and that had never happened before. By the time my colleagues got in, the store was clean, the shelves filled and coffee ready for every one. Alex had texted me during my work related workout and I didn't want to reply, since the question was about Brock and if I was willing to drive him out to Miami that night for a gig. I wasn't, but Alexis wouldn't accept that and I couldn't take a fight. I switched my phone off.

The store was unusually busy that morning and I was grateful for it, because it managed to distract me. Whenever I found myself thinking about him or when the sting of my ass did, I found something to do. At some point my boss pointed out, that we didn't have any employer of the month shit at the store, if that's what I was competing for. I just shrugged but didn't say much. I felt embarrassed about my own stupidity. Really, what a fucking idiot was I, that I let him into my room when he pretended he wanted to talk, then didn't talk and instead wanted to kiss me and then I let him fuck me? A huge, humongous one, that's what.

I was re-stocking the shelves in the back during my lunch break. I wasn't hungry anyway. A knock on the doorframe made me stop and turn around. Fuck me, there he was. I threw him one of the dirtiest looks I could manage, ignoring the sting of tears in my eyes, and then turned back around. I waited for him to walk away, but instead the steps came closer and the door closed. I re-started my work and hoped that I wouldn't make too big of a mess of the shelves, because there was no way I could really concentrate when he was so close.

"You ok?" he asked me.

"Yes." Where was the fucking blush?

"Are you … I mean, like, everywhere?"

"Yeah…sore." Black Mascara to black Mascara.

"I'm so sorry." I closed my eyes and remained silent. I didn't want to know what exactly he was sorry for; my sore ass or last night. I opened my eyes again. Black Mascara, right. "You hated it." He stated, didn't ask. But he was wrong. I didn't hate it. I hated him, and I wanted to forget everything about the night before, which was worse than hating 'it'. Where was amnesia when one needed it? There were many nights I didn't remember because I'd been blackout drunk. But, of course, last night I had been sober as fuck. "You won't even look at me." He was right, I didn't want to. He sounded so small though when he said it, that I did turn around to see, if he would be smaller. He really looked it. His shoulders were slumped, head hanging down, his stupid curls falling into his face. It was obvious that he was upset. I wanted him to hurt and be upset and all, but seeing him like that right in front of me didn't feel good at all. "Do you ha.. resent me now because of last night?" His eyes were still trained on the floor.

Yes, I wanted to scream, yes I hate you with everything I am. But I didn't. "No," I said instead. He looked up and our eyes met. His were soft and vulnerable and I knew mine weren't as hard anymore either.

"I just had to see you."

"Why? Need some make-up?" I couldn't let it go completely. What he was doing didn't make any sense to me. The hot and cold, talking and silence, hate and adoration. He was flying from one extreme to the other, stringing me along and breaking me into pieces in the process. Last night he wanted to talk and ended up fucking me. Now he wanted to see me and I wondered what he would end up doing this time.

"I just… you weren't there anymore this morning when I got back. I tried finding you at the gym, but you didn't show up there either and I just… I tried to call and text….and I knew you would be on your break now, so I came here." He was rambling nervously, the words tumbling out of his mouth all at once.

"You wanna _talk_ again?" My sarcasm wasn't lost on him and he looked like I had slapped him. If only he knew how often I'd come close.

"I just wanna be with you." Mumbling again, eyes were looking everywhere but me.

"If you wanted to be with me, then why did you run off before I even opened my eyes this morning? And why did you say your fucking impolite 'thank you'. That made it crystal what you really thinking."

"What? Impolite thank you?" His eyes were back on my and wide with surprise. "What are you talking about? What did I make crystal?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest, because he knew what he done. No need for me to say it out loud how he had humiliated me. He pulled something out of his jacket pocket, a small tube. "I couldn't sleep and got up and went to the pharmacy and got you this. It's for your… you know… it's supposed to help with the pain." He held the tube out to me. "You were gone when I got back." He shrugged.

I wasn't sure, if I should believe him, but reached out and took the tube for him, checked out the instructions on the back of it. "You got me ointment for my butthole?" There was no way to phrase this delicately.

"I am just so sorry I hurt you… and I don't want you to be hurting."

"You regret it? Last night?"

"I regret hurting you, not, like, nothing else." He came closer to me, his goddamn confidence coming back. He was such snack and my resolve crumbled like a sandcastle when the waves rolled in. There wasn't even a trace left of it when he was standing right in front of me.

"You want to talk to me again now with them lips?"

"Shut up, Jose." He smiled and kissed me. I realised, I had apparently been mad to think I could ever resist him. I craved him with every fibre and I needed his kiss like a man needed water in the desert.

Take me, I wanted to tell him, take me, tear me apart, rip my heart out and destroy my soul, 'cause I didn't care no more. He could do to me whatever he wanted, I would happily let him do it, as long as he never stopped kissing me.

He pressed me against the shelf, his hands under my shirt caressing my lower stomach, his tongue in my mouth, lips pressed against mine. I needed him closer still and hopped up, wrapped my legs around his hips. I wanted him to fuck me again, right here in the storage room at work. I didn't give a shit who could walk in and see us. Didn't care about the pain.

"You're already hard," he smiled against my lips and broke the kiss. I don't know how long we'd been sucking face, but we were both breathing hard and his lips were red and swollen, with my lip-gloss smeared all over them.

"You gonna do something about it?"

"I wish I could, but I don't want to get you fired."

"I don't care."

"You'd hate me again. Raincheck? We'll meet at home later after work and I'll take you out on a date? Dinner? Then we can get back to this afterwards, if you're feeling better?"

"I hate you right now. And I'm good. Gonna be perfect after this." I held the ointment up which I still held in my hand.

"I'm not gonna fuck you again until you're healed You might have a pain kink, but I surely don't."

"Don't tell me all we gonna do tonight is make out against a shelf?"

"No," he chuckled and I felt it in my chest; made me feel all warm. "But there's so much else we could do."

"Like, if I don't take it up the booty, you will?" I smirked.

"Let's talk about this tonight."

"That's not a 'no'!"

"That's not a no," he confirmed and kissed me again, briefly and softly this time. "See you later, papi."

I wiped his lips with my thumb before I let him escape."See you later, boo."

Later, when I got home he wasn't there. The fear of rejection and of him breaking his promise came over me again. Where could he be? Had he left with the others for Miami without telling me? But then I remembered his visit at work and what he'd said and how he'd kissed me. Suddenly, I was sure he'd show up.

I took a quick shower and felt exhausted when I got out, the day and last night finally catching up to me. Still clad only in a towel I lay down on my bed and was asleep as soon as my eyes closed.

A strange sensation on my chest and stomach woke me up. I found Brock kissing and licking my naked skin and dipping his tongue in my belly button when I opened my eyes.

"Sorry for waking you up, but I couldn't resist. You're so hot." His words tickled against my skin.

"Mmmh, just keep going," I purred, because I loved his lips on me. The motherfucker didn't even give me a warning before he tugged on the towel and sucked my cock in his mouth. My hands flew to his head as I groaned loudly. He made me come in record time and seeing stars before he licked me clean.

"Dinner?" he asked after I had pulled him up and thanked him for the wake up call with a long kiss.

"Didn't you just eat?" I teased him and smirked. "And, ya know, I'm hungry, too." It was too bad that he was fully dressed in jeans and a dress shirt. I cupped him, but couldn't touch him without getting him out of his jeans.

He laughed and caught my hand with his. "Real dinner first? I kind of made reservations at this sushi place you babbled about and you still need to get dressed." Then he brought my hand up to kiss mouth and kissed it. I was done. The blowjob, the reservation and now this… who was this guy and what had he done with the asshole that sometimes appeared with his face and body on?

"Fine," I said and tried not to show how happy I was about all of it and about having his undivided attention and affections.

"Then get dressed." Once I was out of bed he lay down on it and watched me as I walked through the room butt naked and chose my clothes.

"Creep," I told him when his eyes were still on me when I got dressed.

"Just enjoying the view." He replied but blushed.

"Come on, let's get out of here, before I join you back on the bed and we won't ever make it to the restaurant." I held my hand out to help him up, but instead he pulled me down on top of him and kissed me deeply. We arrived twenty minutes late at the restaurant, not that either of us cared.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Dinner was magic. I'd been on a couple of dates by then, but I'd never had that much fun. We ate Sushi and laughed our heads off about stupid stuff. We also talked about drag, our drag family, our role-models and our dreams.

We both wanted to be on Drag Race, him more than me. By that point it had already been a couple of years since he'd started working towards his goal. He had it all planned out. He needed a couple of pageant crowns to get a decent job and reputation in the US and then he could try and get a green card. He was already saving up money for the process.

He asked me about my long term plans, but I honestly didn't have any. I hadn't been doing drag for that long, It was fun, I could dance and earn some coins and if I could one day quit my day job that was fine by me.

But drag wasn't a forever job. You were lucky if you could pay your bills, but what when you turned forty? Fifty? Sixty? I wasn't a designer like Alexis. I wasn't as talented with wigs to start my own line. I needed a secure job and in income, cause no one wants to be home-less and car-less.

"Can I show you something?" he asked me once we were done, even had dessert. He insisted on playing, saying it was him who had invited me on a date. I could pay next time. I liked that, the next time thing.

"If it's you naked, I've seen it before but I wouldn't mind seeing it again. You fine as hell." He laughed, a high pitched shrieking laugh and pulled me against his side as we walked to his rental car.

"Later, first I wanna show you something else."

We got into the car and he drove out of town a bit, stopped by a deserted beach that was slightly illuminated by the houses close by. No one else was there.

He took my hand and led me down to the beach, steadied me as I took my shoes off so sand wouldn't be everywhere. He sat down, not caring about his beige pants, and rested his back against a palm tree. I sat down between his legs, enjoyed his arms as they engulfed me.

"I come here nearly every night when I can't sleep. I just sit here and watch the waves, listen to them rolling in."

"You come here?" I was gobsmacked.

"Yeah. Fucking insomnia."

"I though you were clubbing or something," I shrugged.

"I know what you thought." I could feel his smile against my shoulder.

"Do you have any idea how fucking anxious I've been because of you? All I wanted to do was be around you and hold you like this, but I just… I didn't dare."

"Why didn't you give me a sign, you dumb ho?" I slapped his thigh and turned around slung my legs over his thighs.

"I did."He chuckled and placed his hands on top of my knees.

"When?"

"Remember when we went swimming and I rubbed the sun block on you? You ran away like I'd molested you or something."

"Bitch, I wish you'd molested me! I had a fucking boner from your hands on me and needed some cooling off." We both smiled, then kissed. I was back in his arms, chests touching.

"We wasted so much time," he sighed when we broke the kiss.

"Don't talk about that," I told him and kissed him again. I felt him getting hard, same as me. I jerked my hips forward, bringing our crotches together, bumping into each other.

"You wanna do this here? Sand and all?" he asked me.

"Fuck the sand. I want you," I muttered and kept grinding into him. He opened my trousers and kept kissing me as he rubbed my dick, swallowed my groan when I came onto the sand with the waves as the only witnesses.

He stopped me, when I tried to open his fly. "Why don't we get out of here?"

"Thought you weren't gonna fuck me again today?"

"I'm not. But I want your mouth around me and I think you'd not appreciate eating sand." He looked cocky, half smirk on his face.

"Knew you were a smart ho, boo."

Afterwards, after sucking him off and him returning the favour, we lay in his bed - well, my bed- all cuddled up. His hands were still wandering over my body, worshipped me, just as he had done with his lips and mouth earlier. I felt like I'd known him forever, loved him as if I'd had him forever. But in nine days he'd leave and go back to Canada. I tried pushing the thought away, but it tuck, glued to my forehead from the inside. And it hurt.

A tension built being my eyes and became painful. I started crying, loud desperate sobs wracking my body as I clung to him and wet his chest with my tears and snot.

"Jo, what's wrong? Hey?" He was worried, surprised and held me tightly against his naked chest.

"I don't want you to go," I pressed out, before my throat closed again and only sobs made it through.

"I wish I could stay. But I have to go back. We knew that all along. That's why I tried to stay away from you. I didn't want to hurt you, but I just… couldn't. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Now he was crying as well, adding to my pain because I'd made him cry.

"We gonna enjoy the time we have, k? And we can see each other again. Not often, but we will…" I said once I was able to speak again.

"Jose, you deserve better than a long distance phone relationship. I don't have the money to travel and see you often and neither do you. You want a prince charming and I wish I could be that, but I can't," he insisted. I knew he was right, even back then, but I didn't want to hear it. So I did the one thin I could think of to shut him up: I kissed him again, brought my hand to his dick and touched him.

"You said you'd bottom?" I asked him, when I felt him swelling against my palm. We both needed the distraction of sex. "You done it before?"

"Just once or twice."

"I'm gonna make you feel real good, I promise." I dove down underneath the duvet to prep him with my fingers and tongue.

The next morning we woke up together, the smell of sex and sweat all around us. We didn't care. Together we went into the bathroom and took a shower, went another round underneath the warm water.

We'd fucked the whole last night but neither of us seemed able to stop. We had to when it was time to leave. Me for work, him for the gym. He dropped me off, kissed me goodbye and came back for my lunch break. We ate, made out in the storage room. He picked me up after work and we sucked faces in the car before we had to go home, to be on time for dinner.

Alexis asked why I hadn't used my car and I lied, told him that it hadn't started and Brock had been nice enough to drive me to work and pick me back up.

We kept the routine up the next couple of days, careful that no one would catch on. I don't know why we thought it necessary, but it was certainly more fun this way. We shared this secret and it brought us even closer.

Then we had to leave for the big pageant and Alexis shuffled us all in the van. I was sitting beside him and when the third hour driving came and went, I fell asleep against his shoulder and didn't give a damn who saw. We had only two days left.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Even now when I watch the videos of the pageant I remember shit of what actually went on in the competition. I don't remember the competitors, nor costumes, the routines nor how we did. I can see it on the video, but I don't remember.

What I remember is that once we got to the hotel, we checked in and Brock and I didn't even discuss with the others that we would share a room. We just did. We didn't join them for dinner either, but ordered fries, lemonade and gummy worms and stayed in. Between fucking all over the room we snacked on the food, but weren't really interested in it.

We took a bath together and I still remember the scent of the soap and how the bathrobes felt that we wore when we walked out to the balcony afterwards, where Brock smoked a cigarette while I was sitting in his lap, marking his neck and trying to brand myself into his skin for all eternity.

We went to bed way too late and woke up way too early, just to make love again before the competition.

I watched in awe as Brooke won the competition and even slayed Alexis. I couldn't even be angry with him for winning against us. I was just so proud of him.

I took him out to dinner that night, not caring about the costs or the stupid comments and whistles of my sisters. They definitely knew something was going on. Later, I learned that they had known all along and just had chosen not to say anything.

"You did so good today," I told him as we rested in bed later that night. I was sprawled all over him, lying on my stomach, completely naked.

"So did you. I kept watching you." He was nibbling on my neck, one hand on my ass, one in my hair massaging my head.

"You did?"

"Of course I did. You're so sexy." The compliment made my heart soar and he smiled, because he could feel it against his skin.

"You sure you can't stay longer?" I had tried to keep the question in, but I just needed to ask.

"I wish I could," he replied and we dropped the topic again.

Distraction and denial worked for me. For both of us. There were moments when I could see it in his eyes that he was just as sad and upset as I was. But we didn't talk about it again.

Instead we fucked, we drank, we partied and snuck away whenever we could.

"Don't come with me to the airport," Brock requested on the morning we all had to leave.

"What?"

"I mean, don't get out of the car with me when you guys drop me off."

I heard his request and got angry. Hot fury shot through me and I felt the need to punch him again. It had been a couple of days since the last time. When I looked up at him and saw his eyes the fury left as soon as it had come. I got why he asked me. He wasn't sure he'd get on the plane if I followed him into the airport. It made me want to follow him in even more and make him stay. Stop him from leaving me.

Fact was however, that legally he wasn't allowed to stay any longer. He had no green card or other working permit. It was one of the rare moments when I wished I was straight and I could marry him just so he wouldn't ever have to leave again.

"When you won all them titles and your plan works and you get the green card… you coming back, right?"

"That's the plan."

"End game."

"Yes, end game." He hugged me and I breathed him in again, one last time.

As he had requested I stayed in the car when we got to the airport. I didn't even help him to get his suitcases out. When everything was unloaded he leaned back into the car and I hoped that he would kiss me again. One last goodbye kiss. He didn't. Instead he took his backpack from the seat beside me, left his grey sweater and gave my thigh a squeeze.

"You don't wanna take it?" I asked him and help up his sweater.

"No, thank you." Again the words held another meaning than what was obvious. It was his fucked up way to tell me goodbye. I didn't say nothing in reply.

Alexis started the car, we left and the rest waved. I didn't. I took his sweatshirt, rolled it up in a ball, rested my head on it and closed my eyes so the tears wouldn't escape.

***

I thought I'd hear from him once he was back in Canada, but I didn't. I texted him, but I never got a reply. After a couple of weeks Alexis asked me if I wanted to talk and I spilled the whole story. He listened and didn't say much, other than that the number was an American one and that he surely had another phone number now that he was back in Canada.It meant that while he could reach me, I couldn't reach him.

The tears, that basically never stopped the first couple of weeks, did stop once I understood that he was ghosting me and I couldn't do shit about it. Not even send him angry texts, because he simply wouldn't get them. I was stuck in limbo, not really motivated to do much of anything and he couldn't even send a fucking text message.

He sent a card for my birthday with no information whatsoever. He didn't even put a return address on the envelope. Christmas he called Alexis while I was at work. I did not ask if he had wanted to talk to me or had asked about me.

Alexis told me that he talked to him for his birthday, which meant he had his number all along, and said that Brock had won a couple more pageants and he was trying to get a job in the US soon.

***

The call came ten months after he had left. I didn't recognise the number and nearly let it go to voicemail.

"Hey Jose," his voice was soft and hearing it transported me back to our nights together.

"Hey," I wasn't sure if I felt angry or happy.

"How are you?"

"Good, good. You?"

"Same." It was weird talking to him without knowing really what to say. There was so much that should be said, but the timing didn't seem right and the mood was too awkward. "I just… I just wanted to let you know… like, before you hear it from someone else…. I'm in the US now. I got a job."

"Oh," that was sudden and certainly a surprise. "Here in Florida?"

"No, in Nashville at Play," he told me. So close and yet so far away.

"Okay." I didn't know what he wanted from me and I was scared to ask. What if he asked me to come and see him? What if he didn't?

"I miss you, Jose. I wish… I'm sorry."

I swallowed hard. This didn't sound like an invitation to come and see him. "Yeah. You already auditioned for drag race?" It was simply the first question that came to my mind.

"No, not yet. We will start paperwork on the green card soon and then, let's see. And you?"

I didn't want to tell him that I had barely been in drag since he left. I'd done some back-up dancing, but that was about it. "No."

"Have you, like, have you met someone?"

"No. You?"

He laughed, but didn't sound amused. "Me? No. I went on a cruise and there was guy I met there, but it was… it wasn't…it's not the same."

"You want me to come and see you?" I said it, I still don't know why. Stupidity? Naitivity? Hopefulness? He was here now and I could be a make-up artist anywhere. If he'd say yes I'd just pack my bags an go.

He didn't. "It's… it wouldn't work. And I don't want to put us through this long-distance thing. I work every day, I try and save money for the green card and you… you have things to do, too. So we can get on Drag Race, right?"

Years later he told me that this day he had been so deep in the clutches of depression that he had not been able to resist calling me. He wanted to see me, but was afraid of what I would think of him, all depressed. This fucking idiot.

Drag Race was his dream, not necessarily mine anymore. I had other goals as well, goals I would gladly forget Drag Race for. "Right. Listen, I've got to go to work. Good luck, B." I said, because I knew I needed to end this call soon or I would start crying when he could still hear me.

"Thank you."

***

I found a man after the call. One I liked. I did everything with him I would have done for Brock. But he wasn't him and in the end it didn't work. I started doing drag again and Alexis got on my case more and more about applying for drag race. I finally did. I didn't expect that I would get on.

Brock was in my messages as soon as the cast was announced. I was more relieved that he wouldn't be there than enthusiastic about his message. He'd been in the US for nearly two years and still hadn't even tried to come and see me.

Drag race was a mess. Now, I know what a blessing the exit was, but back then… I was just sad and ashamed. I worked like never before, because I tried to get all the money I could, as long as they were still booking me. I travelled a lot as soon as my name got out.

I got booked at Play in Nashville and I accepted it. Kameron was there and we exchanged stories and caught up. I hung out in his dressing room until I had to go on stage. I even got ready with him, even though they had offered me my own space. I was scared Brock would come to see me. And I was scared he wouldn't.

Our eyes locked as soon as I arrived backstage. He was standing there, obviously waiting for me.My heart sped up and I didn't even care that he was in full drag. He was still the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I wanted to kiss him and see how our different shades of lipstick would look mixed together. I wanted to know if his body against mine still felt as good even with padding. I wasn't Jose though, I was Vanjie and so I simply winked at him and then stepped on stage, the heavy make up hiding my blush. I knew that had he been standing there as Brock and not as Brooke Lynn, I wouldn't have stood a chance and would have talked to him, kissed him and done a lot more. I was still completely addicted to him.

A couple of weeks later Miss Vanjie was everywhere and I didn't know up from down anymore. Brock sent me a couple more messages but I was too busy to reply. At least that's what I told myself.

Back then I thought I would get over him eventually. He would become just someone I once knew.

***

When I walked into the drag room the second time and then watched all the girls arrive, I was nearly knocked on my ass when he walked in. I am glad they did not show my face or reaction to his arrival. They cut right to him hugging Nina. The look we exchanged was never caught on camera. A look that said a lot, even though both of us were in drag.

I had half a day to convince myself I had made the look up in my head. Then we de-draged on opposite sides of the room. I could feel his eyes on me and I was certainly watching him.

We couldn't talk though, we didn't even announce that we knew each other.

Silky caught me watching him and I reluctantly said I had a crush on him. It wasn't a complete lie, but neither was it the whole truth. When Silky found out the whole story months after the end of drag race he was speechless for close to twenty minutes. Silky! Speechless!

It was at the end of the first week when we surprisingly got a second together outside, without cameras. I needed some air and he was outside smoking. Maybe it was the pressure-cooker of drag race or maybe the fact that it was simply the first time we saw each other alone again out of drag. I was in his arms a second later and he dropped the cigarette to the ground.

The rest, as they say is Her-story. The first part of the story was ours alone. The second part was broadcasted all over the world. A first chance to really be together, or so we thought. We were wrong, because we belonged to the network at the time. Then came the break-up. My heart-broken face on full screen during the re-union.

The third part, the sequel to the sequel so to say, is ours alone. Thank you very much.

**The end**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two down one to go... ;)


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